Lanterns
by Lupa Lionsheart
Summary: Ostracized and hated for his animagus form, Harry is exiled after his defeat of Voldemort and his forces. Tossed from the wizarding world he finds himself in another, and in the midst of another war. Just his luck. Grim!Harry Darkish!Harry
1. Prologue

**'Allo~**

**I said soon, did I not? ;)**

**The plot bunny for this story wouldn't stop biting me, so I had to do something.**

**I still don't have all the details hashed out for this, but I'd love to see some responses and feedback before I post the first chapter.**

**Warnings: Erm, ranting? I believe that's it :D**

**Disclaimer: Don't own HP or LotR :|**

_Here in the dark we are safe from the judgment _  
><em>Now arm in arm locked tight so no one gets in <em>  
><em>The heaven-sent, they call you hell-bent <em>  
><em>But hell is not where we're going <em>  
><em>Hell's where we've been <em>

_Come raise your lantern to the sky _  
><em>And let's illuminate this night <em>  
><em>We'll dance like heathens around the flame <em>  
><em>And while the world sleeps we are awake<em>

_**Lanterns-Rise Against**_

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><p>"Bring in the convict!"<p>

Minister Fudge's voice rang across the room, catching the attention of the multitudes of people milling around in anticipation for the trial and condemnation of one they had once revered. A door on the far side of the circular room opened, and no less than five aurors emerged, leading a bruised and heavily battered, but nevertheless unruffled Harry Potter over to the scaffold set up in front of the infamous veil.

His normally sleek black hair was oily and tangled, falling well past his shoulders in a horrid mess. Skin paled from long months of captivity had given him a ghostly appearance, not that one could tell through the layers of grime and blood that covered him. A threadbare cloak hung off of his shoulders, just as dirty and worn as the rest of his clothing. He moved carefully, each step obviously paining him, though not once throughout his trek did he ever make a sound, maintaining a dignified silence.

His eyes were possibly the only aspect of him that hadn't been changed from his imprisonment- they still gleamed a stunning shade of emerald, relaxed and bright with a cool contempt for those around him.

He stood, completely impassive, as Fudge cast him a nervous look before turning to face forward. Magnifying his voice, he began shouting out his speech, and then moved on to listing the numerous crimes that Harry had been 'convicted' of.

"-Assault and battery, flying without a permit, breaking and entering, vandalism, conspiring with dark creatures, fraternizing with dark creatures, being a dark creature, multiple counts of first degree murder, several counts of reckless endangerment, evading arrest, resisting arrest, unauthorized magic, and posing a danger to the wizarding world."

As Fudge paused to take a breath jeers and shouts rose up from those watching, witches and wizards raining obscenities and threats down upon their ex-savior, who stood as if deaf to their insults.

The voices died down as Fudge began to speak over them "Mr. Potter has been fairly tried-" Harry suppressed a snort at this "- and convicted on all counts. Thus, he has been sentenced to exile through the Veil, wherever it may lead." He paused dramatically, but before he could speak up again a quiet voice cut him off.

"Enough."

Harry's voice was soft, but somehow travelled to every corner of the room as people fell silent of their own accord. Soon the room was dead quiet save the strong but quiet voice of the one standing before them. His intense gaze swept over them, softening ever so slightly as he caught sight of the unhappy faces of the only two people that had bothered to stick by him, Luna and Neville. They looked miserable, and he gave them a slight smile before his gaze moved on and he continued.

"Have you no shame, no sense of dignity? Are you content in the knowledge that you have turned against one of your own?" All eyes were on Harry now, who had limped to stand at the edge of the scaffold, magical bindings doing nothing to stop him.

"You stand by as injustices are committed, before joining in on them yourselves." He didn't even pause as he froze the two aurors advancing upon him wandlessly and wordlessly before continuing, voice seeming to deepen in a frigid anger.

"I never asked to be shoved into the position of your bloody savior- I could have- and sometimes wanted to- cut my losses and leave you ungrateful lot to Voldemort. But no, I decided to remain and deal with the results of your incompetence. You all dumped your failings on an infant and were lucky that I decided to fight for, rather than against. Indeed, you're lucky that the abuse directed at my at any given time did not affect my loyalties."

His glare raked over his audience, capturing them with it and leaving them almost seeming spellbound before he continued. His voice was even softer, but held such a depth of anger and a plethora of other emotions that that all in the room couldn't help hearing.

"I am done. Finished. Fed up with your fickle inconsistencies and malicious rumors. Mark my words; Voldemort is dead by my hand, yes, but your festering society shall eventually spawn another Dark Lord, and when that happens don't come crying to me."

Even as his last words rang through the room Harry spun on his foot, cloak swirling about him in a very Snape-esque fashion as he stalked towards the veil; a lazy wave of a hand deflected the paralysis spells directed at his back. Spinning in front of the veil he gave his audience an almost feral grin, winking at his two last friends, before falling backward through the ephemeral curtain.

Even as darkness closed over his body pain blossomed in his joints, quickly spreading to envelop his entire being. He was aware of several presences before the level of pain bypassed that of several Crucios, and he knew no more.

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><p><strong>I'd be happier if this was longer, but kicking Harry out just seemed a good place to cut things off. As such, this'll be the last time you see the wizarding world for a while at least ;)<strong>

**Review, por favor?**


	2. Chapter 1

**Wow, such a great response to the Prologue =D I hope this chapter lives up to such expectations.**

**Many thanks to those that favorited/alerted, and reviewed~ In the words of my past spanish teacher, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. xD**

**Skipernicus- Sirius won't be (alive) in Middle Earth, the way I think of it- Bellatrix hit him with a spell before he fell through the veil, so that combined with the changing of worlds finished him off. **

**Riku Lupo- I don't currently have any romance planned at the moment, I'd stick up a warning if any showed up though. =)**

**little-bast- That's a great idea ^-^ I hadn't thought of that, but I love suggestions =) **

**flamenin- Nah, he's not going to be a Maria ^^ I just figure that being tossed into another world wouldn't be the most pleasant experience.**

**Jaklyn- Thanks for pointing that out ^^; Must have gotten my mental dictonary mixed up~ You make several good points that I'll definitely keep in mind =)**

**princessofwarriors- You pretty much got the gist of it =) Luna and Neville are pretty much the only ones who are not dead, hate him now, or have distanced themselves to avoid the negative attention. **

**I've tweaked and redefined the concept of a grim that JK Rowling used, making it less of an omen and more of an actual (magical) creature, although several things it's associated with remain. Sirius just turns into a regular dog =)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Hp or LotR~**

_But I'm on the outside_  
><em>And I'm looking in<em>  
><em>I can see through you<em>  
><em>See your true colors<em>

_'Cause inside you're ugly_  
><em>You're ugly like me<em>  
><em>I can see through you<em>  
><em>See to the real you<em>

**Outside-Staind**

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><p>The first thing Harry was aware of was a sharp pain in his side; something was pressing rather uncomfortably into bare skin. But that wasn't right. Frowning, the wizard's magic was stretched around him even before he opened his eyes, searching for other beings or dangers. The world he inadvertantly opened himself to with the use of his magic very nearly overwhelmed him, and he restrained a gasp at the sheer amount of energy, magical or no, that permeated the land and air around him.<p>

He was in a clearing somewhere in a forest, that much was obvious. The grass was soft and green, save whatever was pressing into his side, and the sun filtered down through leaves that were equally as green, beams dancing over the ground. Pains forgotten for the moment, he stared up at the sky- which was bluer and clearer than any he had seen before. There was something about the trees that seemed ancient, as if they had seen uncounted millenia and were prepared for many more. Yes, there was definitely something different about this place, and it seemed at first glance to be a good change.

For all of his iron-clad (or so he thought) control, he was shaking as he gingerly picked himself up and moved over a few inches, giving the rock that had previously been pressed into his side a baleful look. His magic, drawn hastily back into himself, roiled underneath his skin, as if itching to escape and frolic in the new world he found himself in.

Even the magical nature of Hogwarts fell far short of matching the vivid sense of magic and life that seemed an integral part of the world. Once he was in a better state he would have to experiment a bit and see how the over-abundance of magic would affect how his wandless spells.

For now though, he needed to focus on other things. Like clothes for instance; his own had somehow vanished in the proccess of getting from the wizarding world to this one. He also needed information about this place, as to not stick out too much. He had no clue what beings resided here, even how they communicated, same with culture and the like. He would probably be far too obvious for his taste just wandering around naked, not to mention obviously coming from from another place. Until he knew how the ones inhabiting this world reacted to foreigners, he would rather just not take the chance.

Fortunately for him, there was another option than wandering around looking lost. Closing his eyes, he focused his magic inside himself, willing the now familiar change to happen.

There was a brief flash of dull pain and the sensation of being tugged and twisted before he opened his eyes again. He rose, a bit shakily, onto four paws to look around, and finding that in this form- where magic almost seemed tangible- the world around him seemed bursting with life. He knew though, which sections of the web of magic around him to pull or manipulate to causes the most destruction, though the urge was easily ignored.

His Grim Animagus form; the reason for his exile, but there was no chance that he could ever regret it. His body was slender, holding many characteristics of a wolf, but there was also something distinctly feline in his movements. He was rather large in this form (Hermione had mentioned that he was about the size of a tiger before Ron told her what his form represented), and his thick fur was the purest black. His tail was more feline than wolf, incredibly long and flexible, and covered with silky fur as well. Scales covered his underbelly, such a deep black that when looked at in the right light a green hue seemed to shimmer across them. Aside from that, his eyes were the only spot of color on him, remaining his original brilliant emerald. Claws, the tips just barely visible through the fur covering his massive paws, were just as black as his coat, and his teeth equally as dark.

As he walked he took another chance to get a look at this new world. Never before had he seen such a place filled with life, even the sounds of the small creatures going about their lives in the undergrowth seemed more vibrant somehow. There was just something different about this world. Even the air seemed purer, untouched by the smog and toxins he had grown used to.

Not even an hour later he wasn't making any headway, having emerged onto a road a few minutes beforehand- the first sign that he wasn't alone in this world. The sharp pain in his ribs had graduated into steady throb that was almost too much to ignore; he really needed to find a place to sleep and rest before his body rebelled and he keeled over. Limping off the road he nosed around in the woods bordering it, finally finding a small cavern-like space formed by some overgrown tree roots. Curling up inside, he rested his head on his paws and closed his eyes, dropping off into a deep, if somewhat uncomfortable sleep. He could worry about his situation later.

The next thing he knew someone was shouting "Get off the road!" and was blinking blearily when a couple forms dove into his little hideaway, one painfully jostling him as he stiffened in shock. His warning growl cut off in his throat as the repulsive scent of corpses and ash assaulted his nose, and he held as silent as the ones he was apparently sharing his hiding place with. It was only when the offensive scent faded that he let out a huff of breath, ears folding back against his head as he warily stared at the half cloaked forms. That soon changed, and he barely suppressed a snort of faint amusement as he realized that in their panic the small figures hadn't noticed him. That ended as the slightly larger one cried out "Mr. Frodo, you're bleeding!"

'Mr. Frodo' made a sound of surprise and shifted around, before saying quietly "It's not my blood..."

"What...?"

As one, they both turned to stare at him, which would have been comical if Harry didn't feel so damn helpless. He let out a huff of breath as the larger one scrambled back, crying out "Get back Mr. Frodo" before brandishing a rotted stick at him threateningly.

After seconds passed in which he didn't move, Mr. Frodo took a couple steps closer, pausing just out of reach when Harry flattened his ears "It's injured Sam."

"Too bad, we have to get to the Prancing Pony." Sam retorted, earning a dry look from Harry that Frodo noticed.

"I think it knows what we're saying..." He turned towards Harry "Do you?"

Not seeing any reason to disguise it- and curious about their reactions- he nodded, and snorted in amusement when the two exchanged amazed looks. Harry's ears flicked up as two more voices erupted outside of the small cavern in unison

"Frodo! Sam! Where'd you go?"

As Sam called out something he didn't quite catch, Harry watched as Frodo shuffled a bit closer, staring at the gashes covering his body "Will you let me help you?" he asked.

Blinking a bit, Harry reached out with his mind, tapping it lightly against Frodo's. The boy in question gasped and jumped back, obviously sensing the touch. Attempting to reassure him, Harry didn't attempt to push inside, allowing his presence to linger on the edges, while practically radiating non-threatening intent as he disguised his mischievous amusement at the reaction. He could hear Sam frantically calling Frodo's name, shaking him a bit even, but didn't break his gaze away from Frodo's. When the boy mouthed 'is that you?' he sent a faint feeling of confirmation through the mental connection, and blinked in amusement at the awestruck expression on the little one's face. It was almost as entertaining as Neville's reaction when he revealed that particular skill to him and Luna.

While Frodo was distracted, Harry grasped the chance and used a passive form of Legilimency to gain some sort of understanding of the strange new world he was in, consisting of nothing more than lightly skimming over the hobbits thoughts. His rather mediocre abilities in mental magic had luckily been increased when he discovered his grim form. The magical nature of his animagus made things so much easier.

He was, quite frankly, amazed at what he found, and he was sure that there was much more to learn, having only gleaned the most basic information. It was enough though, to hopefully disguise his foreign state. So the ones in front of him were not young children, but hobbits; it certainly made more sense now.

The little hobbit's voice drew him from his musings "Can you talk like that?"

Long tail flicking, Harry tilted his head to his side before letting out a huff of breath at Frodo's earnest expression. There was really no reason not to, neither hobbit had seemed concerned that he was seemingly a blend of several animals never meant to mix. It was already known that Harry could reach out with his mind, so it seemed likely that speaking telepathically wouldn't be that much of a stretch.

"_Only with great difficulty little hobbit_" He responded finally "_It requires energy that I do not have presently and, it is tiring to form words when one does not use them_." At least, not in this form.

Watching as understanding dawned he hauled himself to his feet, ignoring Sam's startled cry, and sent Frodo an image of his friend's expression, as well as nudging him slightly. Upon seeing the expression, the hobbit hastened to explain to his companion "Don't worry, he won't hurt us."

The larger hobbit still looked dubious, but stood back nevertheless to allow Harry out from the little overhang. He was greeted by the sight of two other hobbits, both staring at him with identical looks of astonishment.

"Merry and Pippin," Frodo began from his side "I'm Frodo, and that's Sam."

Nodding to each in turn, Harry suppressed an amused snort, though he suspected some of his good humor travelled through his newly forged bond with Frodo, judging by the look the hobbit gave him.

Pippin piped up "Who is he?"

"What is he would be better." Merry interjected.

Unsure himself, Frodo turned to repeat the questions to Harry, who responded with a shake of his head and the mental equivalent of a shrug.

"You don't have a name?"

Another mental shrug, after all, he had never had the chance to name his grim form.

"Well, that's not going to work." Pippin began when Frodo relayed the response, apparently satisfied that Harry wasn't going to jump over and eat him "Everyone needs a name."

"Maybe we can come up with something." Frodo offered, and Harry dipped his head in assent, faintly bemused at the sudden acceptance from most of the small group. Seemed like they had no idea about his inherently dark nature, which would work in his favor. He certainly held no ill intentions toward them, and the lack of knowledge wouldn't hurt them.

"Wait, when did we suddenly start including this creature in our group?" Sam burst out, before falling silent as Frodo's gaze rested on him.

"He's coming with us." The hobbit stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

This earned him four astonished stares. Pippin and Merry accepted it rather quickly, recovering first with twin shrugs; Harry was probably next; surprise, followed by faintly amused acceptance seeping through his bond with Frodo.

It was not so for Sam, who was still surly even ten minutes later, as Frodo was gently binding Harry's ribs and various other wounds from some scraps of cloth and bandages he had in his pack.

"How do you know he's not just going to attack us and run off?" he hobbit muttered to Frodo, voice low, but the grim in front of them heard each word, finding himself curious as to the little hobbit's reasoning as well. He was relatively sure that the four wouldn't be able to do much if they attacked him, but they couldn't be so confident. They didn't act like soldiers.

"I just know," Frodo replied "Trust me, Sam; it's like the ring."

Harry blocked his confusion from passing through the bond, barely restraining a snort as the other hobbit apparently understood and quieted. He needed to find out about this 'ring'.

Twenty minutes later they started off again, Harry limping along off to the side. Sam was still grumpy, but seemed to have resigned himself to the presence of the grim, which was good; the glares he had been receiving from the hobbit were starting to get old.

The hobbits seemed unused to so much walking, and so set a pace that seemed almost excruciatingly slow to the ex-savior, though at least it gave him a chance to think things over. Frodo seemed to like him for whatever reason, and he could see himself hanging around the perceptive halfling. His only friends had been left back in the wizarding world, and while he had gotten used to hatred directed at him, he wasn't willing to become a complete recluse.

On top of that, he had no idea where he was, so it would be a good idea to stay with the hobbits. Besides, he was enjoying the relatively unbiased judgements.

His path decided, and newly bandaged wounds feeling much better he kept pace with the small group, staring about at their surroundings even as the sky darkened with the onset of night. He almost outpaced the group when they paused while crossing through a small clearing. Apparently they had decided to stop for the night. Perhaps that was for the better, as rest would no doubt help his wounds heal faster.

As the hobbits settled down he sat towards the edge of the trees, watching as one by one they dropped off into sleep, curled up under various cloaks or blankets- without leaving a watch. Harry shook his head with a huff. Judging by the incident earlier they were being hunted, or at the very least the woods were dangerous. Their actions further cemented the idea that his four companions weren't soldiers of any kind.

It was no matter though, as he was quite sure he would wake if anything attempted to enter the clearing while they rested. Generally a light sleeper in this form, he settled down with fewer worries, resting his head on his paws to close his eyes.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>

**Spanish seemed to work so~ Por favor? :3**


	3. Chapter 2

**Alrighty~ So a couple people have mentioned my habit of centering my stories; I hadn't realized it could be annoying, and since I don't care either way I've changed it. =)**

**There will be a few time lapses in this chapter, none for very long though =)**

**There will also be some action that some of you guys have mentioned ;)**

**Jaklyn-The-Pixie - Heh, never noticed how many commas I used. Hopefully this chapter will be better in that regard =)**

**Lady Foxtrot - I currently haven't the faintest idea on how long Lanterns is going to be at the moment |D **

**little-bast - Nah, Harry's not going to be an elf, it just seemed a bit too cliché for my liking. :) A trunk would indeed be quite handy, but keep in mind that he had been imprisoned before heading through the veil, I doubt that Fudge and company would have allowed him to take anything with him.**

**Shalemaster - Things may or may not happen in the future :3 I'm keepin' my mouth shut for now~**

**Cassandra30 - I hadn't thought about that, but now that you mention it that's a good idea. I've been planning on some flashbacks to flesh out Harry's past before being exiled, and something about how Neville and Luna would do nicely~**

**Reallybored2 - My way of thinking is that since Harry lost the stone, he's no longer "officially" the Master of Death, but as he once was he still retains a few things. ;)**

**kirallie - Luna and Neville are the only ones that stuck by him, and I'm already plotting something for his human form, and the trust of the others. :)**

**xXMadCatXx - That is a nice name =) However, I'm going to stick with something simpler keeping in mind just who is naming him. Were it an elf or someone else suggesting things, I may have used your suggestion~**

**Von - Well, I'm certainly not planning on just quoting stuff from the books/movies and just sticking Harry on the sidelines :) Some things will definitely be different.**

**DizzyZina - Not for a while at least :)**

**LilC16 - I do have reasons for Harry not breaking out of prison, and for the mental bond. I apologize that I didn't add said explanations in their respective positions when they might have been helpful. I occasionally forget that my mental process can be quite skewed, and assume that people will jump to the right conclusions. I will be including the explanations in the next chapter, where I am planning to include several flashbacks. They should clarify some things. :)**

**Toras - Thanks :) I'll be going into more depth next chapter with the rest of my explanations, but I'll give you a brief summation. He can essentially "see" magic while in grim form, and sense it in human; it appears as a web connecting everything and he instinctively knows how to manipulate the strands to perform magic (as such he no longer requires a wand). He can stretch out his mind, mostly to communicate, and has enhanced healing- especially if the weapon/being inflicting the wound is considered dark.**

**A lot of people have mentioned pairings, and slash/no slash~ I currently have no pairings planned. As one of my lovely reviewers pointed out- he's just been betrayed by just about everyone he knows, and while he's not incapable of friendships he would certainly have some trust issues among other things.****  
><strong>**Plus, I'm not the best at writing romance |D**

_I've seen angels fall from blinding heights _  
><em>But you yourself are nothing so divine <em>  
><em>Just next in line <em>

_Arm yourself because no-one else here will save you _  
><em>The odds will betray you <em>  
><em>And I will replace you <em>  
><em>You can't deny the prize it may never fulfill you <em>  
><em>It longs to kill you <em>  
><em>Are you willing to die?<em>

_You Know My Name-Chris Cornell_

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><p>Harry awoke when the first light of dawn filtered through the trees, casting dancing shadows along the mossy ground. Rising to his feet, he examined the bandages wrapped around the worst wounds on his torso. Finding them to still be in relatively good condition, he turned his gaze over to the still sleeping hobbits.<p>

Transparent tendrils of magic coiled around them- not as thick as they would be around a wizard, but there nonetheless. His gaze paused as it passed over Frodo and, eyes narrowing, he rose and padded closer. Coiled on top of the hobbit's chest was a ball of magic that almost seemed black in his minds eye with so much dark intent. In the back of his mind the darker nature he had locked away shivered and the urge to find and take whatever was enveloped in such sinister magic suddenly washed over him. He denied it with a light growl and shake of his head.

Twenty minutes later the hobbits still showed no sign of waking any time soon, and Harry had grown tired of sitting next to them. Rising, he approached Frodo and shoved his nose against the hobbit's arm, pushing him over.

A muffled groan sounded from the bundle of blankets as the halfling stirred, blue eyes looking blearily up at the grim standing above him. Letting out an amused huff at the expression on the newly awakened hobbit's face, Harry moved on to repeat the process with the others. All woke without incident, though Harry had been forced to duck as Sam took a swing at him.

It was a good thing he had woken them then, as it was a good half hour until the four were ready to continue on. From the small talk between his companions he was able to figure out that they would probably get to wherever they were going by sundown at the latest.

The disguised wizard was left in peace for most of the morning as they walked, the hobbits conversing among themselves while Harry meandered along next to Frodo, only moving away to occasionally dodge an oncoming tree. Pippin was the first to remember their previous conversation.

"Say, what about Midnight?" He announced thoughtfully, before flushing under the blank stares he received. "You know, for his name." the hobbit motioned towards Harry, and watched as understanding dawned on the rest of the group.

Frodo glanced at Harry, who snorted. "I don't think that's a good one." he commented, and the grim flicked his ears in agreement.

As they continued on dozens of suggestions ranging from 'Furball' to 'Wolfie' were tossed around. At one point Sam suggested something called 'Mordor', and received glares from the three other hobbits, though Harry was unsure as to what was implied. It was the only suggestion the still surly hobbit made.

After a while Frodo, who had been quiet for several minutes, finally spoke up "Shadow. What about Shadow?" He looked down at Harry, who glanced up at him with a mental shrug. It was certainly better than the others that the hobbits had come up with.

With Harry's rather lackluster agreement the hobbits grinned, and Merry spoke up "Well then, it's good to meet you Shadow." he said with a theatrical bow, and the grim let out a quiet bark of laughter.

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><p>The rest of their trek passed with little trouble, and by the time the settlement Harry assumed was their destination came into view he was relatively sure he had reached a sort of truce with Sam. The hobbit had finally stopped glaring, and even seemed to be beginning to relax in his presence. The sky was streaked with vibrant color even as massive storm clouds formed on the horizon, the cool breeze whipping through the trees speaking of rain to come.<p>

Rain had already begun to pour down when they reached the gate blocking entry into the town, all five soaked through as Frodo knocked on the small door at the side of the gate. After about a minute a slot near the top slid open with a crack audible even over the rain "Eh? Whaddaya want?" A hook nosed man peered out, staring about before noticing the hobbits and grim clustered around the door.

"We need to get to the Prancing Pony." Sam spoke, meeting the suspicious gaze of the man.

"Greh, fine. Get in." the man finally grumbled, unlatching the door and swinging it wide for the hobbits to enter. "The mutt stays out." he added upon seeing Harry, curling a lip and glaring at what he apparently thought was a dog.

"What?" Frodo cried, water dripping off of his nose "Shadow's with us!"

"Then you brats stay out." the man snapped, turning and beginning to close the door.

"Wait!" This time it was Sam who spoke "He'll stay." the hobbit said.

"He will?" Pippin echoed even as the door was swung open again. Sam was the first through the door, motioning for the others to follow. Frodo hesitated, looking unhappily at Harry, who gave him a nudge and stepped back towards the tree line. Nodding, the fourth hobbit turned and followed the other three even as the door slammed shut with a solid thump.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes or send a mild hex in the direction of the unpleasant gatekeeper, Harry retreated underneath a large pine tree to wait out the rain and perhaps get some rest while he waited for the hobbits to return. Stretching, he curled up near the trunk, and allowed the pounding rain to lull him into a doze.

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><p>It was much darker out when Harry was awoken by a strange sensation rushing through him, calling to his darker self. The pull was almost identical to the feeling he had gotten about the knot of darkness on Frodo, and the wizard let out a growl as he rose, ears pinned back as hoof beats sounded along the nearby road. Even through the now light rain, the unfortunately familiar scent of corpses and ash reached him.<p>

At about the same time he felt a shiver of alarm from Frodo, but when he moved to the edge of the pine tree's enveloping branches he found his path cut off by several cloaked beings on black horses surrounding the gate where the hobbits had entered earlier.

Giving them a glare, Harry slipped around them and broke into a run as he followed the edge of the town; relaxing somewhat as Frodo's alarm faded into wariness. When he could no longer smell the strange horsemen at the other gate he settled down again to await a sign that Frodo and the others were leaving the town.

About twenty minutes passed before a sharp twinge of fear echoed through his bond with Frodo, and he rose again, ears pricked as he stood immobile for several minutes. Eventually his sharp hearing caught the sound of soft footsteps. Loosening his taut limbs, he ventured closer and when he recognized the sounds of the hobbits, he trailed along behind them. Wanting to be sure they had no pursuers he didn't reveal himself, or even get within fifty yards.

By the time the little group he was following had paused in a clearing, Harry was convinced that there was no one in the vicinity, and began to push his way through the bushes surrounding the clearing.

A second later he was dodging to the side as a sword slashed down at the area he had previously been standing, a snarl ripping from his throat. Cries of shock rose from the hobbits as Harry darted around in front of them, ignoring the twinges of pain from his side. That done, he took the time to study the man now facing him, sword in hand.

They glared at each other, Harry tensing as the man took a step forward, before both froze as Frodo cried out "Strider, Shadow, no!" The hobbit ran forward to nudge Harry back, standing between the two.

"You know this creature?" 'Strider' asked, gaze never leaving Harry's. The grim stared right back, tail coiling behind him as he bared his fangs.

"Y-yes." Pippin spoke up, followed by Frodo "He's a friend. Please, put away the sword." he pleaded, relaxing a bit when Strider returned his sword to its sheath, hand resting warily on it. In response Harry allowed his hackles to fall and tense stance to relax.

"Don't fight." Frodo continued, sounding much more confident now that a majority of the tension had been diffused.

"How did you come across...him?" Strider inquired, cautiously pacing forward to study the grim.

"Black Riders..." Frodo began "We were hiding from them and we kind of...shared a hiding space I guess. Shadow can be trusted." he finished firmly, as if daring the ranger to protest.

The man locked gazes with the halfling for several seconds before finally nodding, apparently convinced by something in the hobbit's eyes. Nudged by Frodo, Harry walked forward to pause just in front of Strider and stared up at him. The man stared back, unaware as Harry's magic flowed over him. There was no dark magic clinging to him, and while that didn't completely erase his anxieties, it certainly eased them somewhat. Letting out a huff of breath, the grim dipped his head in a nod, startling Strider into returning it.

Now this man seemed the soldier type, Harry observed. The smooth, almost predatory gait combined with the man's wary reception of him only strengthened that idea. The near-decapitation he had almost suffered had tipped him off as well, he supposed. This one would be a good one to get on his side.

Pippin laughed at Strider's expression "He's smarter than he looks." he said brightly, and grinned at Harry when the wizard snorted at him.

Shaking his head, the ranger simply turned away "Let's go." he ordered, and rounded up the hobbits to herd them away from the town, Harry loping alongside. After a while of walking, they had finally broken out of the trees onto a plain of sorts, small bushes poking up over the flat ground. One of the only real obstructions was a large structure of something that had long ago fallen into ruin.

They followed Strider right up to the base of the ruins, and through a small entryway that had been near invisible to see in the darkness. From then on there were several flights of crumbling stairs until they emerged onto a good sized ledge about halfway up the tower. It was about thirty feet long and ten feet deep, relatively clear of major debris, but small to mid-sized stones littered the rough floor.

The hobbits wasted little time finding places to sit and relax, exhausted from the unusual amount of exercise. Barking a laugh, Harry padded over to sit a short distance from Frodo, gazing out over the land they had come over. To his side, he was sure that Strider was doing the same.

An ear flicked as he felt Frodo come closer to sit next to him and rest a hand on his side, he turned to look at the hobbit though, when he noticed nimble fingers undoing the knots of his bandages.

"They need to be changed." the halfling explained upon noticing his look, showing him the dirtied bandages as he pulled them away from his skin.

By this time Strider was watching them closely, and when Frodo removed the bandages the ranger meandered over and crouched to examine the wounds as well. Callused fingers ran lightly over the torn skin, a startled expression crossing the man's face as he discovered the scales covering his underbelly. "There's no infection." he ranger finally reported, giving Harry an inscrutable look before rising to his feet. Navigating the stones scattered about the ledge, he cast one look back at the hobbits and grim before heading back the way they had come.

His voice echoed back through the passageway "Don't leave." And then he was gone.

Silence reigned in the small group before Merry snorted "Not the chattiest fellow, is he?" the hobbit observed, standing to go sit near Pippin as Frodo and Sam curled up next to each other, the smaller hobbit burying his face in his cloak in what was apparently an attempt to sleep.

Shaking his head, Harry padded back to his original spot at the edge of the ledge. Laying down and resting his head on his paws, he kept a watchful gaze over the lands in front of them.

He had tuned out the quiet murmur of the hobbits behind him when a sharp crackle caught his attention. Head rising, he tracked the sound to where Merry and Pippin were sitting, a small fire glowing in front of them. Letting out an irritated snort, he heaved himself to his feet, catching the attention of Frodo. The slender hobbit shot to his feet as well, whisper-shouting at the two "Fools! Put out the fire!"

Hastily, the small pot of water sitting next to the fire was upended onto the flames, a sharp hissing combining with the steam billowing up from the makeshift pit. Tension hung thickly in the air as all five on the ledge stared at the now dead fire, then as one turned to stare out at the land below. For a few moments they were all deathly silent as they waited for their eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, and Harry was the first to regain enough sight to see the cloaked forms racing towards the tower. A snarl ripped from his throat even as the hobbits gasped in unison.

"Run." Frodo gasped, seeming to shock them out of a stupor, and the hobbits fled back to the passageway carved into the rough rock. Finding a hewn stairway leading upwards, Harry followed as the halflings fled up to the top of the ruins. Panting from the adrenaline influenced sprint, the four hobbits plus Harry soon tumbled out onto the moss and weeds covering the top of the ruins.

The grim froze for a few seconds as he gazed about what it seemed would become a a battlefield. It was almost eerily similar to the amphitheatre with the veil back in the wizarding world. Actually this is what he figured it would look like after decades of abandonment. A majority of the area was relatively clear, and crumbling archways of rock encircled the edges, giving the place a run down, gloomy air. Now that he thought about it, the beings that Frodo called Black Riders reminded him a bit of dementors as well. But such senseless parallels were unneeded at the moment.

The hobbits moved into a small circle, short swords drawn as Harry paced around them, hackles bristling. A swell of dark magic flared behind him and he spun, jet black fangs displayed as he snarled at the cloaked form gliding up over a crumbled arch.

Other nearly identical forms also emerged around them, prompting Harry to resume his circling, attempting to protect all of the hobbits at once. They weren't soldiers, and outnumbered as they were they wouldn't last long even with him at their side.

The malevolent presence of whatever Frodo was wearing seemed to be...growing? Harry paused in front of Frodo, still snarling at the Black Riders surrounding them. He froze though, as a raspy voice reminiscent of old bones scraping together sounded; it seemed as if to be both silent, telepathic, and at the same time spoken. He couldn't understand a word said in the strange language, but _t_he voice spawned conflicting emotions within him; his human side recoiled with loathing, while his darker nature almost seemed to hum in agreement.

He could feel a wave of confusion overwhelm the fear coming through his bond with Frodo, but a light sweep of the hobbit's mind conformed that he hadn't understood, and only heard a hoarse noise. That was reassuring; while he had no idea what the Black Rider had said, it most definitely would have been incredibly troublesome if the hobbit had understood.

As it was, he finally sprang forward as the nazgûl moved to draw a sword. Magic swirled around him, strengthening his body and lending speed to his paws as he slammed into the wraithlike being, jaws clamping down. What met his teeth was almost insubstantial, and he was reminded of a skeleton with but a few scraps of skin covering the bones, and thick cloaks resting over the corpselike frame.

The taste was so repulsive that even in his grim form he had to fight back a gag, but he ceased to worry about it as the arm he was latched on began to swing him with startling strength. When he refused to relinquish his grip, the Black Rider swung again to send him crashing into a rock. Even as magic swirled invisibly around him, cushioning his blow somewhat, a strangled yelp was torn from his mouth and the Ringwraith was loose again.

Hauling himself to his feet, Harry wasted no time before lunging back at the beings menacing the hobbits. The wraiths had paired off, a couple to each hobbit, and while the halflings were doing an exceptional job defending themselves with their rather nonexistant skills, they weren't doing so well. They had shown some intelligence though, in standing back to back.

Letting out another snarl, Harry lunged at the Ringwraiths menacing Frodo. Yanking at one of the magical strands hanging in the air while in midair he threw an invisible force at the ones around Sam, knocking them back even as he body-slammed the two in front of Frodo.

Something told him that he would not be able to repeat what he had done to Voldemort- i.e. tear his throat out, and so he settled for whipping his tail around, the fur magically hardened into a crude club as he slammed it into the two to send them flying sideways.

There was a yell from behind him, and the grim spun only to watch as Strider sprang over a crumbled arch, sword already swinging as he leapt headlong into the battle.

Letting out a huff, Harry bounded away from where the nazgûl were regaining their feet. Pippin had fallen, and the wraiths looming over him were lofting their swords. Snarling, Harry reached out with his magic and _pushed _when the swords shot down, knocking them off course to slam into the ground next to Pippin. They were pulled back even as Harry landed to stand protectively over the terrified hobbit, who let out a strangled noise and shrunk back.

Tail lashing, he bared his fangs again at the two wraiths attempting to get around him. He was loath to use too much of his magic, lest the hobbits or ranger connect it to him and thus hold him in more suspicion than before. He still had plenty of skills at his disposal though, and so continued his use of more subtle magic, lending strength to his allies and himself.

Pippin was yet to regain his feet, and so Harry was forced to remain in front of the hobbit. Snarling and occasionally lashing out both physically and magically, he kept the wraiths at bay until the hobbit finally stumbled into a standing position and hefted his short sword.

Letting out a short howl, he lunged forward to tackle one of the wraiths, sending it crashing to the ground with him on top. He had a few seconds to lash out with a burst of energy before he was thrown off, clear across the tower. He skidded to a stop near where Strider was hacking at a couple wraiths, barely sparing a glance for the grim as Harry rose and shook himself before bounding forward again.

The fight seemed to blur, Harry ducking and dodging as quickly as he could. It seemed like the minute he had knocked a danger away from the hobbits yet another popped up. His side was burning with rekindled pain after being thrown around and crashing into things. The Ringwraiths may not look it, but they were incredibly strong.

Panting, he skidded to a stop after driving a wraith away from Merry. He restrained a low whine, head dropping slightly as another seductive wave of dark magic washed over him, whispering through his mind. With a shiver he shoved the feelings away and glanced around for Frodo. The hobbit was...gone? No, that wasn't right. Ears flattening, Harry tracked the dark knot of magic that he had seen on Frodo around the tower, starting forward as he noticed several Black Riders heading for what seemed to be the invisible hobbit as if they could see him.

The knot of magic he was tracking Frodo with stopped as the lead Ringwraith hefted it's sword. Putting on a burst of speed, Harry lunged forward. Dimly aware of Strider now wielding a flaming torch in the background, the grim slammed into the wraith as the sword fell. At Frodo's cry of pain and subsequent reappearance, Harry at first thought that he had missed and that the sword had pierced through the hobbit.

However, even as he and the wraith tumbled away from the hobbit, the scent of blood, while there, remained faint. Fainter than it would be were the halfling truly stabbed. He fell backward as fire flashed in front of his face, and he glanced over to the side to see that Strider and the other hobbits had managed to drive off the other Black Riders. Faced by the flame, the one in front of them let out a screech that cut right through Harry's mind, and fled even as the grim snarled in a mixture of pain and anger.

As the smoking tip of its cloak vanished over the ruined walls, Harry just stared out, almost disbelieving that the fight had ended so quickly with the introduction of fire. At his side, Strider hadn't moved, and the grim suspected something along the same lines was running through the ranger's mind.

They were both snapped out of their reverie as Frodo made another low noise, and they practically raced each other to the hobbit's side. Mentally cursing his lack of opposable thumbs, Harry fell back slightly to allow Strider to examine Frodo's shoulder, though he remained close enough to allow the hobbit's free hand to fist in his soft- but now somewhat grimy- fur. He was faintly aware of the other three hobbits clustering around, though luckily they were relatively unscathed.

There were a few tense moments when the disguised wizard feared that his action to knock away the blade had been in vain, and that the hobbit had been badly injured. He relaxed slightly though, as the man muttered something about only being grazed by the nasty blade.

The other hobbits let out sighs of relief as they heard the words as well. They were all startled however, when Strider picked up the hobbit without any sign of relaxing as well "He needs athelas," the man stated grimly, tone garnering the inquiring and worried stares from the three hobbits and Harry. The grim kept a close eye on the silent hobbit in the man's arms, unhappily noting the almost delirious state the halfling was falling into. Could the blade have been coated with a poison?

They weren't graced with a reply, and were forced to follow the man as he moved swiftly back to the passage back down the tower. The hobbits clamoring for an answer as Harry silently shadowed them they spilled back out onto the ground, making their way towards the fringes of a forest.

It was only when they were within the gloom underneath the trees that Strider spoke, answering their questions "The Black Breath is caused by a close proximity to nazgûl," the man began "We must get him to Rivendell."

"Rivendell? Like with the elves?" Pippin spoke up, and earned himself a dry look as the group slowed to a stop in a small clearing. Strider didn't reply as he rested Frodo against a fallen log, settling the hobbit in the soft moss before rising again and pacing quickly back into the trees.

Following the man through the dark woods, Harry watched as he examined the ground, fingers combing through the various plants growing. Ears pricked, he stepped closer to the man as he let out a victorious hiss, ignoring the sudden stiffening as he got closer.

Staring at the small plant in the man's hand, the grim stretched out his head to sniff at it. The scent was powerful with an almost sharp, tangy hint that made him sneeze. Strider arched an eyebrow but didn't comment, reaching down to pluck more of the herb before hurrying back towards the fallen hobbit.

As the man crouched back by Frodo Sam moved closer again, regarding the plant with wariness "What will that do?"

"Ease his pain until we can get him to the elves." the man replied simply, resting a hand on Frodo's forehead as the hobbit groaned. For several minutes the only sounds were from the ill hobbit and the quiet rustling of clothes as Strider continued to tend his wound.

Harry was the first to hear it. Rising from Frodo's side to stare expectantly in the direction he could hear the faint sounds of hoof beats. The beings that had attacked them had been riding horses the first time he had seen them, and so made no effort to stop his fur from bristling along his spine.

By the time the hobbits had noticed his protective stance the hoof beats were close enough to be heard, and Strider had risen from his crouch at Frodo's side, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. As Harry glanced back though, he noticed the man didn't look all that worried.

He didn't have much of a chance to ponder the lack of anxiety, as a rustling in front of them heralded the arrival of a horse. Still bristling, he was prepared to lunge forward as a white snout pushed through the bushes on the edge of the clearing.

He felt more than saw Strider relaxing at his side, and the growl rumbling in his throat cut off in surprise as a hand settled on his head. While he was busy staring at the ranger the horse stepped further into the clearing, and as he swung back with a snarl he paused, scenting the air as the cloaked rider slipped off the horse.

The sharp scent of mint, herbs, and wood was almost painful as the figure approached, but he had effectively ruled out the possibility of a Black Rider. Judging by Strider's reaction, this person could be trusted...or at the very least was an ally. Huffing uneasily, he flattened his ears and retreated to Frodo's side. In a corner of his mind the instincts of the grim urged him to either run from, or attack this newcomer.

The figure pulled back its hood, revealing a pale female with an almost delicate face and aristocratic features. Harry's gaze was drawn to her ears however, noting the pointed tips. This must be an elf, if the information gleaned from Frodo's mind was correct. Probably why as an inherently dark creature he was uneasy.

The elf wasted little time with formalities, moving instantly to the injured hobbit and speaking to Strider in a strange, musical language that grated on the grim's ears. He was positive that at least part of the unknown conversation was about him, as he was sure the elf-maiden cast him a look laced with something he couldn't decipher. The hobbits were stuttering in surprise, but the elf and man didn't notice until Sam made a frustrated noise, only then did they seem to take note of the stares. Leaving the elf to examine Frodo's shoulder, Strider gave them a sweeping glance before motioning to the elf.

"This is Arwen."

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><p><strong>And I'm cutting it off there~<strong>

**Got a nasty stomach bug right now, so I figured I might as well get this chapter out before I make you guys wait another week while I sleep and recover. As such, I apologize for any errors there may be.**

**Next chapter they'll be reaching Rivendell, but a large portion will be memories and flashbacks of the wizarding world, and some questions will hopefully be answered.**

**I only know the word for please in spanish so~**

**Review _por favor_ :) I cannot say how ecstatic I am to have 100+ right now.**


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